


Aftermath

by Mychemrom



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clintasha - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 04:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16527332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mychemrom/pseuds/Mychemrom
Summary: "Clint was cautious, wary of the events that we're about unfold. His eyes shifted from Arkinov to the girl, all the while keeping an eye on his partner through his peripheral vision."Rated explicit for graphic violence and smut.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are very welcomed and appreciated.   
> Thank you for clicking to read!

“Nat wait!” Clint restrained his yell to a strained growl through clenched teeth, he cursed himself for letting the emotion slip. He grabbed her shoulder, holding her back from rushing all fury, at the man no more than 10 metres from them.   
The man stood tall, his steely blue eyes unblinking, the smug power and control he felt radiated through his stare. His knuckles turned white from holding the hilt of his knife. The blade digging into the young hostages throat, a trickle of blood weeped from the wound. She didn't flinch or show any sign of discomfort though, despite her arms being held roughly behind her back, her body arched painfully. The red room teaches stoicity and they train their girls well. Clints muscles tensed, coiled with anger and the restraint he needed to maintain for his partners sake. 

Natasha's teeth bared behind curled lips, her body trembling from rage and anticipation. Clint was cautious, wary of the events that we're about unfold. His eyes shifted from Arkinov to the girl, all the while keeping an eye on his partner through his peripheral vision. Their Intel was wrong, the trap laid for them was expertly planned and executed, they didn't see it coming. Clint swore harshly under his breath, his mind racing to figure out a way to get Natasha out of here. Shield worked hard to keep her from her ex handler, his mere presence unravels the widows defenses and elicits too many emotions that make her unreadable, unpredictable.   
Arkinov's lips pulled up into a malicious smile in response to the distress he was causing his protege.   
Without warning he dragged the knife swiftly across the girls neck, blood spewed from the wound and she slumped to the floor, gagging on her own blood.   
Nat lept forward so fast that she wrenched her shoulder free of Clint's hand before he even realised she'd tensed to move.   
“Nat!” He reached for her but she was already on Arkinov, Clint fought against every fibre of his being that screamed for him to rench Natasha away and rushed toward the girl, his hands immediately going to her throat, trying but failing, to stop the bleeding. He cursed and tried to stop the rage he felt from bubbling to the surface.   
Arkinov was laughing as Nat crashed them to the ground, Clint saw Arkinov's hand curl into a monkey paw, the one inch punch catching Natashas rips. She growled and pressed her legs against his arms, pinning him to the ground. Her face was twisted into an ugly look of pure rage, her eyes wide as she dug her thumbs into his eyes, she lifted his head and smashed it into the concrete before pressing her thumbs deep into his sockets. Arkinov grunted but continued laughing, eliciting a cry from Natasha that sounded like a dying animal. 

The girl in Clint's hands fell slack and he let her down gently on the dirty floor. He saw Natasha in her smooth face, he reeled back from the thought, he stumbled to his feet stepping away from the young assassin. He forced his mind back to reality and moved quickly over to Natasha as she punched Arkinov's limp body over and over. Her knuckles splitting from the impact, mixing her blood with his. Clint grabbed her shoulders, lifting her away from the man who caused her so much pain.   
She flailed, cursing him, all emotion and no restraint, she swung and caught his jaw with her fist, he grabbed her arms and pulled her into him, doing his best to ignore the searing pain that flashed through his jaw. 

“Nat calm down…” he struggled to keep her still, his heart aching for the mess in his arms. He held her tight wishing he could take away the years of abuse, the control that ravaged her mind rarely spilt onto the surface but Clint always knew one day it would, he viciously choked back on the tears of helplessness that stung his eyes.   
As fast as she'd attacked Arkinov she loosened in his arms, he hesitated before slowly letting her go, he stepped back and looked down at her.  
“Nat…” it was almost a whisper, her face had fallen back to the stoic mask, if it weren't for the slight trembling that betrayed her, anyone would think she was perfectly fine.   
Natasha didn't look at him, she walked past him silently and exited the building.   
Clint looked at the bloodied bodies on the floor, it wasn't the first time he'd seen mangled corpses and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this was going to be a sight that would haunt him for a while. 

 

Back at shield headquarters Clint and Natasha sat in the hallway waiting to be debriefed. Nat hadn't said a word since the warehouse and Clint was restless, he wanted to get the debriefing over with so he could try and talk to Nat.   
Fury summoned them into his office, Natasha stood first and walked past her partner, her eyes dark and vacant, Clint closed his fists hard and followed her.   
Clint gave Fury the full situational report while Natasha sat silent, staring at the cuts across her knuckles.   
“You two are dismissed, I'm giving you both three days off. Natasha, I have you booked in for a psych eval tomorrow at 0700.” Nat gave a slight nod and Fury turned his attention to Clint, his look worried and cautious. 

Clint followed Natasha down the halls towards their quarters, he kept a few paces behind her not wanting to make her feel smothered but he also just wanted to hold her, make themselves as small as possible and ride out this aftermath.   
When they reached her door she walked through but left it open, Clint hesitated for a moment and followed her in, closing the door softly behind him. He pulled his bag of clothes out of her cupboard and heard the shower turn on in the bathroom, he changed out of his combat gear into a pair of tracksuit pants and a loose fitting t. He moved to the sink and washed the blood from his hands and forearms. He sat on Natasha's bed waiting for her to finish scrubbing herself raw.   
After 35 minutes Clint stood and knocked gently on the bathroom door,   
“Nat, you okay?” He waited a minute for a reply but received none, he grabbed the handle and walked into the bathroom. 

Natasha was sitting on the shower floor, her knees drawn tightly to her chest, water cascading down her back. She blinked slowly as Clint moved toward her to turn the water off, he snagged a towel off the rack and placed it across her shoulders, gently he guided her up and out of the shower. He pulled a pair of tracksuit pants from her draw along with an oversized hoodie and dressed her. He wished she would say something, anything, to give him an indication that she was still there. That the events of today, hell, her entire life, hadn't stripped her of all sanity. 

She was still trembling slightly as they crawled into bed, Clint wrapped his arms around her, cradling her tightly against his chest, wanting to engulf her, to keep her safe against him, his thumb moved mindlessly back and forth across her shoulder blade.   
He froze when her hand moved under his shirt, her fingers grazing across his ribs to his chest. Clint swallowed and spoke her name, it came out as a question. She lifted her head and stared up at him, her eyes pleading, begging to feel something other than the pain. She moved her face closer to his, pressing her lips against his, gently at first. Clint's head started spinning, his mind understanding her need for comfort, for grounding, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to abuse her situation.   
He'd wanted this, her, for a so long. He'd spent countless hours fantasizing about all the things he wanted to do to her, but was this really the right time? Was she going to be distant and regretful tomorrow? 

Clint snapped out of his thoughts as her kisses turned needful, she moved to straddle him, his hands gripped her hips, pressing her impossibly closer against his throbbing cock. He felt her heat as she grinded against him, Clint's breath hitched in his throat, her tongue searched his as their bodies moved together.   
Nat tugged at Clint's shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it to the floor before discarding her own, Clint sat up, gripping her ass so they wouldn't lose contact, her hips rocked against him as he bit and licked across her breasts. She moaned breathily when he took a nipple between his teeth, licking and sucking the tender flesh.   
She pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him flat onto the mattress, their mouths locked in a heated kiss.   
Clint lifted his hips and pushed down at the waistband of his pants, her hand tangled in his hair, her mouth pressing into his jaw toward his ear, taking his lobe into her mouth, she held it between her teeth   
“Clint…” she breathed heatedly. Clint inhaled sharply at the sound of his name, his fingers slid under the waist of her pants, cupping her ass and rocking her more fiercely against him. He kissed her neck roughly, biting along her collar bone. His head was spinning, she felt so good pressed against him, he could feel her wetness through her pants against his freed cock. She moaned into his ear and pushed her pants down, she moved away from him for a moment to discard the unwanted clothing.   
Clint groaned at the absence of her. He wanted every inch of her pressed against him, he wanted to touch and taste all of her. 

Nat straddled him again, letting her slickness coat him before he guided himself into her. She slid down onto him, her mouth going slack at the sensation. Their breathy moans filled the room as she rocked against him needfully, their mouths crashed together, fighting each other for dominance. Nat pulled away first, her breath sharp and ragged   
“Clint, I want you to fuck me” she breathed, Clint gripped her hips tightly and flipped them over, he dragged her down the mattress, lifting her left leg so he could bury himself deeper into her. Nat threw her head back and clawed at his back, Clint involuntarily hissed at the pain but sure as shit didn't want her to stop.   
She cried out as he angled himself to find her g spot, she tightened around him and he attacked her throat, nipping at all the flesh he could.   
“Harder… Clint please, harder” she held onto him like her life depended on it as he thrust harder into her, they both moaned loudly at the rough contact.   
Clint's head fell against her shoulder, teeth bared, breath hitching in rhythm to his thrusts. Nat linked her legs behind his ass, lifting herself slightly while pressing him deeper into her.  
“Fuck, Tasha…” his thrusts we're getting sloppy but he kept up the pace as best he could, his hand cupped her breast before trailing down her stomach, his thumb finding her swollen clit, rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves. She tightened around him as she felt her climax building, “faster Clint, don't stop”   
She bit down hard on his collarbone drawing blood as she came, it all sent Clint over the edge, he groaned and shuddered on top of her coming hard. His face the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain. 

Nat held him in place as they rode out their climaxes, she held him tightly against her as if the act of letting go would see her spiral into the abyss. It was only until their breathing returned to normal that she released her hold on him, Clint rolled off of her and grabbed his pants, shirt and Nats panties off the floor. He pulled his pants on and handed his shirt and panties to her. She pulled them on and curled against his chest.   
Waves of exhaustion rolled over them as the smell of sex lingered in the air. 

 

Clint stirred from sleep to the whimpered moans spilling from Natasha's slack mouth. She twitched and shuddered in her sleep, her face contorted into a heart wrenching look of pained fear. He watched her for a moment, saddened by his utter lack of usefulness. He gripped her shoulder gently   
“Tasha.. c'mon wake up”   
Natasha tensed and quicker than Clint could comprehend she grabbed the blade from under her pillow and thrust it hilt deep under his ribs.   
Clint inhaled sharply, instinctively shoving her away from him, the blade wrenched free of him, it's serrated edge tearing his flesh and doing triple the damage coming out than it did going in.   
Clint bared his teeth and bit down against a cry causing it to come out as a guttural groan. He pressed his hand against the wound, blood seeping through his fingers.   
Natasha was breathing hard, her eyes darting around the room, she focused on Clint's pained expression, her eyes widening as she trailed down his form to the wound. She clasped her hand over his adding to the pressure. Clint hissed trying to regulate his breathing as the pain radiated white flames throughout his body. 

“Clint?…” she whispered his name, Clint shut his eyes hard, trying to will the pain away. When he opened them his eyes searched the ceiling, panicky, as if the answer to not passing out we're written into the paint.   
Natasha lept over him and wrenched the door open, light spilled into the room as Clint fought against the darkness spreading across his vision. 

Natasha rushed into the hallway and collided with Steve, his hands caught hold of her, the playful smirk at the sight of the infamous black widow stumbling was replaced quickly by a questioning seriousness from seeing the blood on her hands.   
“Natasha, what happened?” He looked from her to the open door she'd crashed out of, he let go of her when she didn't answer, her breathing ragged and sore. Steve stepped into the room and saw Hawkeye bare chested, his hands gripping at slick blood that seeped into his pants. Steve slammed his hand over the intercom “I need medical to room 17 now!”   
He moved quickly to Clint's side, pressing his hands firmly over the archers at a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. Clint moaned in pain, opening his mouth the speak   
“Steve… where's Nat?” He coughed, blood erupted from his mouth and dripped down his chin  
“Don't talk Clint, medical is on their way. Just hold on” Steve pressed his hands more firmly against the wound. Clint moved his head, shaking it sharply   
“Steve… please.. you have to find her..” his voice was strained, the archers eyes pleading with Steve. Steve nodded once and stood, he took a harrowing moment to look at his friend, silently willing him not to die before leaving the room in pursuit of the Black Widow. 

Steve found Natasha on the roof, she was pacing, muttering in Russian as she stared at her shaking hands.   
“Natasha” Steve approached slowly, his hands up and his gaze comforting. Nat glanced at him like a cornered animal, she was visibly shaking, tears bit at the corners of her eyes.   
“I didn't mean to…”   
“I know, it's going to be okay. Clint is going to be okay” he risked another step forward but she stepped back three paces. Her heels dangerously close to the edge of the building, Steve wanted to rush her, pull her away from danger but he knew any sudden movement would spook her right now. Her eyes darted around the roof as if she were looking for an escape, but Steve wasn't sure she was really seeing anything. She lifted her hands and stared at the blood that coated them, her breathing became deeper, her eyes unfocusing.   
“I think I'm going to be sick…” she doubled over, her hands resting on her knees, it was the only thing keeping her standing.   
“You're in shock… Natasha, it's okay…” he took another step forward as her eyes rolled back into her head, she swayed for a moment before collapsing off the side of the roof.   
“Nat!” Steve yelled rushing after her, he leapt off the roof, catching her and turning his body so she was cradled against his chest. His back facing the concrete beneath them. He braced for the impact but the contact knocked the wind out of him, he felt his ribs break and he choked to get air into his lungs. A couple of young agents raced to his side  
“Holy shit, captain are you okay?” Their eyes were wide in astonishment and fear, looking from Steve to the roof above.   
“Check.. her” he choked out between stalled breath. Medical rushed outside with a gurney and placed Natasha on it, they ran back into the building yelling for rooms to be freed and instruments to be ready.   
Steve pushed himself up onto his knees, his hands pressed firmly into the concrete as his breath slowly returned to him, he stood shakily, holding his ribs and started making his way to the med unit.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No” he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, slamming her into the wall and holding her there.  
> “You don't get to do this, not after all the shit we've been through” The words came out in a snarl, he was done restraining himself, done tiptoeing around her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated. There is a song lyric at the end of this chapter so I thought i'd put a list together of songs that remind me of Natasha and Clint. 
> 
> (Some of these are from the avengers soundtrack)   
> Unbroken - black veil brides  
> I'm alive - Shinedown  
> Shot in the dark - within temptation  
> Broken pieces - apocolyptica  
> The world is ugly - My chemical romance 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Clint moaned painfully, the gurney jostled his frame sparking new flames that radiated out of his wound.   
“We need the O.R prepped now! Wake Stanson and get him scrubbed for surgery!”   
Clint heard the med team barking orders but it was coming through as if he had cotton buds in his ears. His head was swimming, he couldn't focus on any one thing without darkness nipping at his vision. 

He saw Steve towering above the medical personnel, he turned his head to look at the captain, Steve returned the look   
“Nat?...” He strained out, Steve nodded, “she’s okay Clint, focus on yourself right now” Clint saw Nat unconscious on a gurney that was being pushed past him, they took her around a corner. He reached his bloody hand out, the med unit placed an oxygen mask over his face. His eyes strained to keep a hold on Natasha but she was gone and his vision faded fast.

Clint stirred against the cocktail of meds that raced through his system. He heard Tony and Steve talking somewhere near him but he had to strain to focus on the conversation   
“it’s been three days Steve, no one's heard anything. She's in the wind”   
“We can't just sit and wait for her to come back Tony” Steve's lips pressed into a straight line, he and Tony still hadn't worked out their differences and he had little patience for Tony's cynicism.   
Clint forced his eyes to open, he tried to sit up but his side protested sharply. He let a hiss slip past his teeth as he gripped the wound.   
Steve stepped the the side of the bed, placing a strong hand on Clint's shoulder, gently pushing him back into the bed.   
“Stay still Clint”   
Clint allowed himself to relax back into the mattress   
“Where's Nat?” He asked, his mouth was dry, his words raspy.   
Tony crossed his arms against his chest and leant back against the wall   
“She's off grid. Left three days ago. No one knows anything”   
“What're you doing to find her?” Clint asked turning his head towards Tony, who in turn gave him a look of annoyance. Tony didn't much care for the Black Widow. He didn't trust her and couldn't understand why the rest of the team did.   
They stared at each other for a long moment Before Tony spoke, the words spilt from his mouth before his mind could process his own stupidity   
“She stabbed you Clint, you do remember that don't you? I mean Jesus Christ, she nearly killed you, after sex no less.” Tony's stare was level with Clint  
“Guess we know how she got her name now” he said offhandedly, almost to himself.   
“Stark” Steve warned him with a stare and the simple use of his last name, Tony uncrossed his arms and turned to leave the room he waved a hand as he spoke  
“Yeah, yeah, I'm going.”   
Clint stared at the ceiling, his hand curled against the blanket covering him and made a fist. Steve shifted uncomfortably on his feet, he wasn't sure what to say   
“Tony's just worried about you”   
“Stark is an arrogant prick” Steve laughed and patted Clint's shoulder   
“Well yeah, that too” 

Clint allowed himself to heal for 2 weeks before he set out to find Nat, well, allowed meaning Steve and Bruce would restrain him if he attempted to leave before they deemed fit.   
He knew they were right and didn't struggle too much, as bad as he wanted to find his partner he knew he wouldn't be of any use if he couldn't keep himself upright and moving for longer than a few hours. 

Clint was hunched over a multitude of screens, searching for any trace of Nat, he was getting closer. Her trail was subtle, submerged within tourist purchases and fake names. He was getting frustrated until a name made his skin prick. It was an alias she used years before shield started tracking her, she must have thought they didn't know about it.   
He pushed the chair out from the desk and went to collect his kit. 

Clint tracked her for a week through 3 different countries before he even got close enough to confront her.   
He watched her walk into an abandoned bank from his perch on the opposite building. As she entered he swiftly made his way down the fire escape and followed her in. 

“You need to stop following me” she snapped spinning on the ball of her foot to face him   
“You're acting like a lovesick boy on prom night” she glared at him through her lashes. Clints lips curled above his teeth, she turned to walk away from him   
“No” he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, slamming her into the wall and holding her there.  
“You don't get to do this, not after all the shit we've been through” The words came out in a snarl, he was done restraining himself, done tiptoeing around her.   
She continued to glare at him, his free hand curled into a fist and slammed into the wall beside her head. Natasha didn't flinch, made no movement except her eyes glancing from his fist back to his face   
“You want to hit me Clint?” her voice daring him   
“I wouldn't mind knocking some sense into you”   
Natasha shoved both palms against his chest, Clint's arms fell to his side as the motion knocked him back a few steps   
“You gonna do it?”   
“Don't test me Nat” he warned through clenched teeth.   
Natasha dropped to the floor sweeping her leg to knock him down, Clint took a step back, lifted his leg above hers and kicked out catching her shoulder, she let herself roll with the force of his kick and landed with one knee to the ground.   
She looked up at him through the hair that fell across her eyes.   
Natasha lunged at him, he braced and she saw the subtle change in his stance, she shifted to counter his fist, her forearm pushing up against his swing. Her right hand curled into a fist and uppercut in to his side where the wound she'd caused a couple weeks earlier was trying to heal.   
Clint grunted in pain, doubling forward slightly, she was on him in a second, her arm wrapped across his throat pulling him back roughly. his knife wound protested sharply, it split open as Natasha's knee pressed into his spine, arching his back.  
Clint grit his teeth, his breath laboured and harsh, he bit back a cry trying to relax himself as much as possible.   
She felt him slacken and shoved him forward out of her grasp. Clint swung around fast, his fist connecting harshly with her face. Her head snapped to the side, teeth cut into her lip, blood pulsed from the laceration.   
Clint grabbed his side, his wound throbbed painfully, the blood making a slick patch on his shirt. With his wound open he had no reason to hold back, if she insisted on challenging him he would rather bleed out than walk away. 

“Where's your bow Clint?”   
“I'm not here to kill you Nat” he replied between breaths.   
“That'd be the only way you'll take me back” she advanced on him throwing punches that he only just managed to dodge   
“Fuck Nat what's going on with you?” He growled as her fist caught his jaw, he clamped his hand around her wrist and ducked under her arm, pulling it up behind her back.   
She dropped her body, forcing Clint to let go of her arm before he broke it. As much as he wanted to win this fight, to beat some sense into her, something inside him made him pull his punches. Something she didn't seem to have nagging at her.   
She slid away from him, spun and kicked him hard in the stomach, he coughed out and slumped.   
Clint fell to his knees, his breath hitched, coming out in gasps as he fought against the bile that rose against the back of his throat.   
“God damnit, Nat” he pleaded, he raised his head to look at her “you can't do this alone, stop pushing everyone away” she looked at him, her walls still up, but as she took in the sight of Clint kneeling in front her, blood caked on his hands, on his face.. a crack in her defences formed. Her eyes watered but she refused to let them fall. She took a step toward him, he involuntarily flinched. She stopped dead in her tracks, her face contorting into a look of sheer anguish, her hands trembled by her sides. Natasha stepped forward slowly and dropped to her knees in front of him, she pressed her head into his shoulder her hand clasping over his knife wound. His blood immediately dripping through her fingers. Her breath hitched and the tears fell down her face. Clint wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into him tightly.   
“I'm so sorry…” she mumbled between sobs, she held onto him, her hands balling the bloody fabric of his shirt in her fists.   
It hurt to hold her, his whole body screamed in pain but he refused to let her go. 

 

~Tear down, the walls that will surround. Cry out, against burning sound. Show me, how bleeding hearts can pound, if we stand together we will be unbroken~


End file.
